Her Faithful Servant
by Archangel Samuel
Summary: Maleficent was able to curse the infant Aurora, but at what cost? Now Diaval lies injured and close to death, and it's entirely her fault. (Takes place in the middle of the movie timeline, only Madiaval if you want it to be.)
1. Chapter 1

**Her Faithful Servant**

Maleficent studied the pale body laid out before her on a makeshift bed of soft brambles and grass as she recalled the events of that evening for the hundredth time.

She had entered that throne room with her faithful servant at her side, whether he had wanted to be there or not. She had cursed that human's ugly little child, an act that, even considering the current circumstances, she still refused to regret. The king had begged for a reprieve, and Maleficent had softened the curse out of mercy for the queen and the child, both of whom she despised, yet still found to be relatively innocent in the greater scheme of things. It was Stefan who was the monster, not his repulsive mate and offspring.

Leaving the castle was easy—no, should have been easy. She had her magic, after all, and neither sword nor crossbow scared her. Of the few guards who were on duty, most had not been willing to risk the safety of the crowd, nor that of the newly cursed infant. But there were still three or four who had attacked. Maleficent remembered laughing at their wasted efforts as her staff blocked their arrows and swords. Then she had heard Diaval's cry.

The arrow had entered him just below the heart, and to this moment Maleficent still didn't know if the archer had been aiming for her or not. All she knew was that her faithful—if reluctant at times—companion had screeched once as he fluttered in a circular pattern straight to the stone floor, where he tried several times to take flight again, failing at each attempt. She remembered scooping him up into her arms as she ran from the castle, no longer concerned with curses or revenge now that she was beginning to realize how selfish and petty she had been.

Maleficent had run all the way back to The Moors, stumbling several times as her balance still remained unimproved after the loss of her wings. Only when she had made it past those thick, brambled walls did she allow herself to stop and rest. The raven in her arms had his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open, and his breathing had been shallow and fast. She knew he wouldn't survive much longer in this form. Laying the raven gently down on the soft grass, Maleficent had hurried to gather loose brambles to create something his human form could lie upon. She remembered putting her own cloak over the finished nest to protect her servant from the sharpness of the tiny thorns. Diaval had made no sound when Maleficent placed him on the bed.

With a wave of her hand, Maleficent had changed her servant back into a human, a form that Diaval had never preferred, but would at least keep his fragile heart beating. The first sound from his human throat had been a cry of pain, which brought tears to Maleficent's eyes, but also hope to her guilt-ridden heart. He was still alive.

Diaval had instinctively reached for the arrow buried between his ribs on the left side of his body, requiring Maleficent to take a firm hold of both his arms.

"Diaval. Can you hear me?"

Her servant had nodded very slowly. More relief, more hope.

"You need to lie still. Let me take care of your wound."

Maleficent had released his arms and went to remove some of the leather that bound her hair. She had placed a piece of it in Diaval's mouth.

"Bite," she had commanded. Diaval's soft moans of pain had been muffled by leather when Maleficent pulled the arrow from her servant's body. The arrowhead had remained attached to the shaft—thank every spirit in heaven and earth for that—and there was no sign of poison. The only binding she had was her own clothing, so she tore several long strips from her dress to patch her servant up as best as she could. But as soon as she had laid him back down, his eyes had shut.

That had been an hour ago.

She now sat beside him, watching him struggle to breathe as she replayed her every action in her mind's eye, wondering which one had been the fatal mistake. But what did it matter? Every mistake had been her own. Diaval had advised her not to take her revenge in such a petty, merciless way, but he had come with her anyway. She should not have stayed and fought, but arrogance got the best of her. Diaval had been there to protect her anyway. Even now, the faeries of The Moors would probably already be here offering medicine and herbs if they hadn't been made to fear their Queen these past several years.

Maleficent let one small tear escape down her cheek. Diaval had become her wings, but in doing so, he had given up his wings—his _freedom_ to her service. And this was her gratitude?

"I'm sorry, Diaval. I'm so sorry," Maleficent whispered, but she knew the words weren't enough to get her faithful servant back.

She stayed with him the entire night, praying that each shallow breath he took would not be his last.

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**I've never seen a movie and written a fic for that movie all in one night, so I'm pretty happy (and sleepy). I'm considering adding a second chapter to end it for real…**

**Please let me know what you thought of it!**

**-Samuel**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all the kind reviews! Here's some more for you. Oh, and it would appear that this is pretty much definitely Madiaval. Hope that doesn't deter anyone. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 2**

Diaval remembered being struck and fluttering to the stone floor, but now, as he lay on the grass watching Maleficent hastily gather brambles, he had trouble remembering how they had gotten to The Moors. It surely hadn't been by his own wings.

He felt his mistress lift him up and set him down very gently on her cloak, and he found himself wishing she had held him in her arms just a little longer. Was that too much for a dying servant to ask?

Without warning, Maleficent waved her hand, and Diaval felt his body rapidly change shape.

He thought he was used to the random shifting spells Maleficent seemed to like putting him through, but this one caught him off guard. The discomfort of the sudden transformation coupled itself with renewed pain from his wound, and he heard himself cry out.

The sound of his own voice told him that he was human now. Though not his favorite form (it lacked the beautiful raven plumage he was so proud of), Diaval had grown fond of the unique abilities his human form had to offer. _Like arms and opposable thumbs…_ Diaval reached over toward the source of his pain, his muddled brain telling him that pulling the arrow out would fix everything.

Maleficent immediately grabbed hold of both Diaval's arms, finally speaking to him. He heard her say his name and ask him a question. He stupidly nodded, still confused about everything going on except the fact that he was probably still dying. At any rate, it was comforting to hear her voice and feel her touch.

He heard her give him some orders, something like "be still." That was perfectly fine with him. When she stuck something odd in his mouth and told him to "bite," he just went along with that as well, taking comfort in the fact that the object smelled like his mistress.

He felt betrayed when the pain came so suddenly and intensely. Why was Maleficent hurting him? Too tired to scream or fight back, Diaval bit down hard and moaned through his teeth. Soon after, the agony diminished to a manageable ache, and Diaval was vaguely aware of his mistress lifting him up and wrapping something around him. Content to be in his mistress's arms, he closed his eyes and let go, plunging quickly into unconsciousness.

* * *

If any other emotion came close to the fear and guilt Maleficent was feeling, it was frustration. Dissatisfied to wait any longer for signs of change, she began to try every healing spell she could think of, and even a few she made up on the spot. None of them seemed to do anything, good or bad. She had never dabbled in healing humans before (or ravens, for that matter), and it would appear that her spells only seemed to work on faeries and enchanted foliage. Maleficent finally gave up and sat back down beside her servant, still watching and listening for any signs of life.

"Come on… Just wake up and tell me you're going to be all right," Maleficent begged him. The only response she received from the pale form in front of her was another slightly hitched breath, this one even shallower than the previous one.

Memories stirred unbidden, reminding her of others who had given up their lives in her name. One faithful Balthazar came to mind, slain in battle against the armies of the previous human king. She had been powerless to save him as well.

But this was different. Diaval was not a creature of The Moors. He did not serve his country, his friends, or even himself. He lived only to attend to the desires of a scorned faerie turned sour by her lust for revenge. Guilt turned to shame. What had she become in these past few years?

Maleficent hammered her fist into the soft ground.

"Damn it, you stupid crow! Why did you have to get in the way of that arrow? You should have known it could not hurt me." Her tears now flowed unchecked as rage and despair filled her. She dropped her head into her slender hands as she continued to weep.

"I might have loved you, you know," Maleficent spoke into her palms. "But I never gave you the chance to love me. You never got to see the real me. She was buried beneath all the cruelty I showed you." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper as she offered one final plea: "Don't die, my friend. Please just give me one more chance."

A very soft, weak voice spoke up beside her.

"I am not a 'stupid crow'; I am a beautiful raven…"

Maleficent's reddened eyes shot open, and she stared down at her servant, hardly daring to breathe.

"…And you're wrong," Diaval quietly continued, "I see the real you in every step you take…in every word you speak…in every tear you shed when you think I'm not looking."

Diaval slowly opened his eyes and offered Maleficent a weak smile.

"Did you honestly think I could leave you when it's clear how much you need me?"

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**A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I would love to hear what you thought of it!**

**-Samuel**


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